


The Best Laid Plans

by 4depthoflove



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-30 12:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5163893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4depthoflove/pseuds/4depthoflove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian and Justin live in different worlds. Brian is still based out of Pittsburgh, while Justin is in New York. Yet, they still have a great deal in common. Both are successful...both are respected in their fields...both are wealthy...both feel like they should feel on top the world….and...both feel like there is something missing in their life. It’s been five years since they have seen each other. Will a chance meeting bring them together, or will they remain as far apart as ever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strolling Down the Avenue

**Author's Note:**

> First story in quite a while - feels really good to be posting. Hope you enjoy. Either way, let me know. Thank you. 
> 
>  
> 
> You know the drill - I don't own the boys...they own me. Neither of us sees a penny of monetary profit from the other, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Thank you to all the lovelies from the LCCC for your constant support and encouragement.
> 
> Special thanks to Tagsit for your beta expertise - not to mention the beautiful banner!

 

Brian loved walking down 5th Avenue, especially on a brisk autumn day like today. At least he always used to love it. He sighed to himself as he wondered once again if he would ever be able to step foot in New York City and not ache for the man he knew was taking the world by storm here, just as he predicted he would.

 

It had been five years, five fucking years, and yet he still missed the blond bombshell today just as much as ever…maybe even more. As difficult as it was with New York being the hub of so much of the action in advertising, he really tried to limit the amount of time he spent here. The Empire City…it was just too painful to know that he was so close to his former lover, and yet so very, very far away.

 

As a result, his heretofore frequent shopping trips on the fashion focused thoroughfare had been limited as well. Not that he didn’t make sure that he got his top designer, fashion forward appetite fed regularly. He was, after all, still the same Brian Kinney, label queen extraordinaire. He just had made it a point to satisfy that particular pleasure in one of the several other venues where shopping for the trendy elite was available.

 

Stepping out of the Gianni Versace storefront after having purchased an ass hugging pair of slim fit jeans as well as a to-die-for pair of square toe city boots, he was once again pleased that he had decided to stay overnight at Omni Berkshire Place, so that he could take advantage of the pleasant weather and stroll among the stores at will, without having to worry about calling a car to take him back to his hotel when he was through.

 

He was close enough that he could allow himself to enjoy his leisurely walk back to his room, even though it also allowed him more than enough time to let his mind wander back to the other source of absolute pleasure that was never far from his mind in this fair city.

 

‘Fuck’, he thought to himself, as he brought his hand up to grasp the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension that had once again settled there. He had only gotten less than one block down the avenue, which was what…a 30 seconds walk, before the man he let get away once again invaded his thoughts and made his chest clench uncomfortably.

 

/~/

 

He had hoped that deciding to pursue the consultant opportunities that had been opening up for him in the wake of the trio of CLIO awards he had won to add to his already expansive collection would keep him too busy to dwell as much on the only man who had ever made it past the carefully built walls around his heart.

 

He truly had believed that the increased travel and unknown challenges he walked into on a regular basis, while attempting to share his expertise and knowledge with up and coming agencies across the country, would be enough to distract him from the loneliness and heartache of having known what it felt like to be loved…and lost it.

 

So, he had turned the reins of running Kinnetik over to Cynthia and Ted, the two people currently in his life that he trusted beyond a shadow of a doubt.

 

He knew that Cynthia was more than a little responsible for the success of the Pittsburgh based agency he had created from the ground up, and he had no qualms whatsoever about leaving it in her more than capable hands. He couldn’t ask for a better CEO.

 

This in turn allowed Ted the opportunity to branch out and showcase the skills he had picked up along the way. While he was still familiar with each and every financial report, and kept his finger on the pulse of every aspect of the accounting department he had personally hired and trained to fill his shoes, through the years he had shown that he had become so much more than just a numbers nerd.

 

Not only had Ted exhibited loyalty and efficiency beyond Brian’s wildest expectations, but the times that necessity had demanded that Ted fill in for Brian in dealing with the clients who could not be rescheduled when Brian was traveling or ill had revealed he had a real talent for bringing in new accounts while keeping the established clients happy and generous with their contract budgets.

 

As a result, Brian had decided to give Ted the title of COO, making it clear to both of his trusted employees that while he wanted to be kept abreast of all major decisions regarding the agency, and would retain majority share, the day to day operations were to be split between the two of them as equal partners.

 

His friends had been astounded when they opened the portfolios outlining their new duties and compensation packages when they realized that they each now owned 24% of the corporation. However, Cynthia felt more than comfortable in her new role, as did Ted who was also thrilled to take advantage of the chance to travel and entertain with his husband Blake, enjoying the parties and establishing new contacts that Brian no longer had to concern himself with.

 

/~/

 

As he walked through the front door of the hotel, Brian was too lost in thought to notice the hopeful smile the doorman offered him as he opened and held the large plate glass door for him to enter. While he enjoyed the generous tips the man always placed in his palm for the slightest service, the handsome concierge would give it all away for just one night with the gorgeous businessman.

 

Tonight though, Brian gave the man neither tip nor attention. Instead, he wondered to himself if he had made the right decision to step away from Kinnetik. Instead of serving as a catalyst to missing Justin less, he found that the separation from his family and friends, and the obvious lack of true companionship as he traveled alone, slept alone, partied alone, ate alone.….only served to point out the growing emptiness that his life had become.

 

As much as it hurt to do so, he tried to picture him out there tonight, and hoped he was happy. That is the only thing that would make it all worth it. He knew he was a success, having kept up with his career in the trade magazines, but he also knew only too well that success and happiness did not necessarily go hand in hand.

 

He couldn’t bear to think about his Sunshine (he would always think of him that way) without that smile that little up entire rooms with its brightness, but it hurt like hell to contemplate that smile directed at some unknown person - someone who had put that smile on his face instead of him.

 

Looking up at the mirrored glass on the elevator he now stood before, he saw the reflection of the doorman gazing longingly after him, and decided since he had no interest at all in stepping out to one of the many clubs the New York scene had to offer, that the this man would do as much as any other. He had to do something to distract himself, and he was now horny as fuck having had the blonde on his mind all day. Yes, the guy wasn’t a troll, he had a nice ass, and he would just have to do.

 

Walking back over to the entrance, he nodded toward the curious doorman, who recognized the gesture and quickly stepped inside. “Something I can do for you Mr. Kinney?”, the man asked expectantly.

 

“I forgot your tip,” Brian said as he leaned over to place a single one dollar bill in the man’s hand. Lowering his voice to barely a whisper, he added, “Room 309. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” With that he walked back across the lobby and got on the elevator, quite sure that the young man would be scrambling to take his break as quickly as he could, and would be knocking on his door before he knew it.


	2. Chapter 2 - On The Streets of New York City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that I have taken great liberties with one of New York’s most famous streets. Please forgive me. I also don’t have a clue how the real world works with artist’s representation. I hope you can overlook these small details, and recognize that sometimes we stretch the truth to provide plot devices that make a story work.
> 
> Special thanks once again to my friends in the LLLC - especially Tag and Lorie for your invaluable support, and brilliant editing...you make me always want to be a better writer - and a better friend!

Justin walked through the pristine glass doors that marked the front entrance to MOMA, where he had spent the better part of the afternoon leisurely enjoying the collections, both old and new. It was a luxury he rarely allowed himself these days, but somehow he knew when he woke this morning that he would not be able to resist the pull of the exhibits. Some days he just needed to fuel his creativity before he could tap it to produce the quality of work he and others had come to expect of him.

He decided to stop at a small shoe emporium that had opened just down the street from the museum. He thought perhaps buying a new pair of boots would be a nice end to the relaxing part his outing before he moved on to the business conferences he had planned throughout the rest of the day.

He entered the store, however, and his senses were bombarded with the sights and smells…new leather…designer brands…the latest fashion trends…and suddenly he wanted to be anywhere but where he was. He turned around on a dime and left the shop without a moment’s hesitation. He just couldn’t let his mind go there.

As he turned towards the building that conveniently held the offices of both his agent and his publicist/manager, he was barely aware of either his languid step or the tell-tale hunch of his shoulders. He knew that he still had more than a half hour before his meeting with first one, then the other, but he didn’t really care to stop in any of the other boutiques that would have normally kept him pleasantly occupied during the wait.

He typically enjoyed this time of year, with the brisk air and the temperature neither too cold nor too hot to comfortably walk through the streets of the city that had become home to him.

Home…he tried not to think about that word and all that it had meant to him in the past. There was a time when home meant lying in his lover’s arms, protectively wrapped in his comforting embrace. He couldn’t think of a time since they had parted when he had felt the peace and contentment of that feeling. That seemed like such a long time ago.

He had been feeling more and more melancholy all week, and couldn't quite put his finger on why that was, until he caught a glimpse of the new Hickey Freeman collection in their storefront window as he continued walking down 52nd St. towards his final destination of the day. He tried desperately to push away the thoughts of Brian that the display evoked. He could just picture the brunette’s excitement upon seeing the line set out like that, as well as the epic shopping expedition that would have resulted. He had been thinking a lot about Brian this week.

He hoped that Rachel Epstein, his agent, and Tazlyn, his treasured manager and publicist, had been able to meet earlier in the day so that this set of meetings went more smoothly than the last. Tazlyn was loyal and devoted, and nothing got under her skin more than when she and Rachel butted heads over a show or a commission. While Tazlyn unerringly looked out for Justin’s best interests, they both knew that Rachel’s main concern was the bottom line, and she didn’t really care much about the effect, positive or negative that it would have on Justin’s career, except inasmuch as that career affected her own pocketbook.

The last disagreement had been over the fact that Rachel had been all but ready to throw a very promising and lucrative commission the way of another artist who just happened to be in the office and available, rather than wait for Justin to get back from a long week-end at his beach cottage, a necessary break for him after having just finished two back to back mural commissions that left his hand in pain and uncooperative.

As it turned out, not only was Tazlyn willing to fight for first rights since the person who had ordered the commission had asked personally about whether or not Justin might be available to paint the portrait requested by the client, but the mother of the child whose image was to be captured had threatened to seek a commission elsewhere if she would not be able to obtain a Justin Taylor original as she had hoped.

He had made quite a name for himself, and just as Cynthia was largely responsible for Brian’s success, Tazlyn could be credited with his name and fame being sought after by high end buyers throughout the country.

Thoughts of Cynthia inevitably lead back to thoughts of Brian, and he shook his head as he realized that his melancholia of late was actually another subconscious bout of missing Brian, and that particular ailment almost always resulted in a dry spell with his art that he simply couldn’t afford right now. He had to do something to get his mind back in the game, with two commissions and a solo show looming in front of him.

Still, he allowed himself a moment to ponder whether he ever crossed the other man’s mind. Did Brian ever miss him? Did the older man’s chest ever clench the way his did when he thought about what they had once shared? No, More than likely for Brian it had been ‘out of sight, out of mind’. Especially with all the time that had passed since they last saw each other.

He thought back and could remember absolutely everything about that last moment of what he had mistakenly thought was going to be another glorious day spent with his lover. He was surprised when Brian walked up to him outside of his studio that day, with a look on his face that showed it was going to be anything but. 

They’d had a another spat the night before. In fact, it was the same one they had been having for months. Justin wanted to return home to Pittsburgh, home to family, home to Brian. And…Brian wouldn’t hear of it.

He had been standing there talking with that bike guy, Jim…no Tim…that was his name, whiling away the time until his favorite brunette arrived back from the errands he said he had needed to run while in the city visiting Justin. Brian came walking up the street with a scowl on his face, saying, “We need to talk, Justin.”

They had gone into the studio, and with the swiftness and ferocity of an unexpected landmine, his entire world as he knew it was blown into small pieces and scattered all around. “It’s time we face some facts, Justin,” this man he thought he knew began. “We’re beating a dead horse here. I’ve been putting my life on hold for days at time for far too long, what with all the trips I have been making up here to see you. Sure, we always have a great time, but it’s really starting to get old.”

“On top of that, all this talk about you coming back to the Pitts is making my dick soft. We can’t go back, Justin. I think we both always knew that. It’s better that we admit that now, and get on with our lives. Go out there and be the best fucking homosexual you can be, here in New York, and I’ll do the same back in Pittsburgh. I think I can do that now, you taught me how. I just can’t keep doing this,’ waving his hand back and forth between them, ‘anymore.”

He leaned in and kissed Justin on the forehead, leaned his own against it for only a second or two, and with that he got up and walked out the door. Only later did Justin realize that Brian’s errands that morning had been to pack up all his belongings, everything of his that he had ever brought to New York with him, and in the flash of an eye, the love of his life was gone.

Afterward he had kicked himself for pushing so hard to go home. He should have known that Brian wouldn’t want to give up his freedom again. He should have been content with what little they had, but instead he had pushed for more, and pushed Brian away in the process.

Letting Brian go had been the single most painful thing he had ever done…bar none. Not even his recuperation after the bashing could compare to the lingering pain that had nearly been his undoing for the first few years after Brian had left.

It had taken everything he had not to beg the man to reconsider, He wanted nothing more than for Brian to let him show that he could be what the other man needed and still be the best homosexual he could possibly be. That he could make him proud and make him happy.

In the end, though, he just couldn't let himself do that. He couldn’t be that pathetic – even though for a long time afterward, that’s exactly how he felt inside. He had to put what Brian needed above all that, above his own needs, above the pain he thought might be his undoing if he didn’t get a handle on it.

So, he had picked himself up – brushed himself off – and accepted the harsh reality that once again love didn’t mean forever. He’d learned that lesson with his dad who was supposed to always love him no matter what. How silly of him to allow himself to think that love with Brian, of all people, would be any more enduring.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, determined to find a way out of this pensive mood he was in. It served no purpose, and he had so much he needed to do that he really couldn’t spare time on such a useless effort.

He would survive this. He had to. For himself, for his family, but most of all for Brian. He would be successful, and he would find a way to be content, maybe even achieve some level of happiness - that most elusive of all desires...

He decided that a stop at the tiny art supply store he knew was nestled, almost hidden from view, between two high end clothing stores, might be the very thing to provide the necessary distraction. Picking out a few new brushes and some paint colors might, more than anything else, help to get his mind off what he had lost. No use crying over spilt milk. Brian was in the past, and there was nothing he could do about it now.

As he walked into the reception area of the agency building, the secretary greeted him and told him that Rachel would be ready to see him in just a few moments.  
As she pushed the button to let Rachel know Justin had arrived, she wondered to herself how someone as good looking and successful as Justin Taylor, not to mention kind and fun loving and sweet, had managed to avoid being snatched up, and why. As she gazed over at him surreptitiously, however, it occurred to her that behind his usual smile and sense of humor there was something in his eyes, a sadness perhaps, that led her to believe it was more than just being a free spirit that kept him single, and wondered if he was as really lonely as he looked at that very moment in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC...
> 
> don't worry...I know it looks bad for our boys...and the sadness brought tears to my own eyes while writing it...but you know I can't keep the boys apart forever...it's just not acceptable!


	3. Chapter 3 - That Was Then...This Is Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grab your tissues folks - if I cried writing it - you might need them as we take a look into Brian's thoughts and inner turmoil - as one very smart lady told me...it makes us want to slap him...and then hug him!
> 
> Still - we can't get to the good until we travel through the bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again - a great big thank you to Lorie and Tag for their invaluable editing...
> 
> and to all the wonderful ladies of the LLLC - for their constant support and encouragement.

Brian woke up irritated and on edge. He felt unrefreshed and unsatisfied. Neither of these states of mind were what one would usually expect after a night spent in a posh hotel, in a lush bed covered in the most luxurious bedding, after having sex with a hot guy who had not surprisingly responded to his vague but effective proposition the night before.

He lay in bed thinking back to the uninspiring fuck he had experienced with…whatever the fuck his name was. He had no recollection about whether or not the doorman had introduced himself before they got busy, and found that he really didn’t give a damn.

As his morning wood throbbed even more intensely than usual, his thoughts wandered back to how lackluster their coupling had been. Sure he had come last night. Hell, by the time the man had knocked on his hotel room door he had been so horny that he could have gotten off rutting against the bedpost. Besides that, the encounter had not been completely without pleasure, nor had the guy been a total dud in bed.

Still, their tryst had barely scratched the surface of the unbridled need lurking deep within him, and he found himself as horny as he had been before they began, perhaps even more so if that was possible. He had even uncharacteristically allowed the man to remain for a second run once they had gotten their breathing back under control from the first release.

The guy had skills, and any other time he would have more than appreciated the talents the man had displayed. But this was New York, and here in New York, nothing was going to be good enough, especially after his previous afternoon’s contemplations.

He was always a considerate lover, and had done his best to show the man a good time, but when the doorman had turned to lean in, intent on kissing the brunette’s tempting lips, Brian knew that the time had come to show the man the door. Kissing was a luxury he rarely engaged in, and there was no way in hell it was going to happen here with all the memories of Justin running rampant in his mind.

Still, the doorman had seemed to leave happy, completely unaware of the distress of the man who had made him see stars only minutes earlier.

“Fuck,” he said to himself. He wanted nothing more than to leave this fucking city and its constant reminders of Justin. Well... maybe he wanted one thing more, but that was the one thing he could never have, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

He showered, stroking his hard and leaking cock, once again attempting unsuccessfully to relieve the unrelenting throbbing. Still frustrated after his release, he dried himself off, shaved, and then quickly dressed so he could get on with his day and try to find a way to get his mind off the unquenchable desire that would not be denied.

He chose a pair of charcoal gray trousers with a shirt in a slightly lighter shade of gray, and a brilliant teal blue tie. He caught his reflection in the mirror as he walked out the door, and knew he looked hot. He tried to steel himself against the turmoil raging inside him. His clients deserved his best, and that meant finding a way to focus completely on the job at hand throughout his meetings this morning. 

/~/

 

Walking into the conference room that Josie, the hotel meeting planner, had set up for his series of consultations today, Brian concentrated on the paperwork he had set before him. His first three sessions had been with individual company representatives, reviewing their existing marketing strategies, and helping them to think outside of the box to embrace the more trendy concepts that he had found to be successful with similar companies he had worked with. 

The meetings had gone well, and he was hoping the momentum would carry him through his next much larger session, which was a multi-company symposium. As he reviewed his notes once more before the arrival of the eighty or so attendees expected to be present, Josie’s assistant began to set up the room according to what Brian and Josie had agreed on.

Since the conference was scheduled for 1pm, they had decided to forego a formal lunch, opting instead for a canapé menu, which included fruit and vegetable options, as well as a few light protein selections to satisfy every palate. He briefly looked over the display to be sure that the choices were set out according to his specifications.

Tables were set up along one wall in the room he had occupied all morning, and he could hear the staff setting up chairs in an adjacent space that also functioned as a private conference room in its own right. The wall between the two areas was actually a soundproof partition, which when folded vertically and secured in the hidden wall compartment, opened the room up for larger gatherings such as the one Brian had planned.

He always sought to offer the best to his clients, so it was no surprise that he would reserve the most elite conference room the hotel had to offer. Also, Brian knew, those who frequented the most elite venues expected nothing but the best.

Still, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he looked up, having heard the mechanism slide the room divider aside.

The best was exactly what he now saw before him, and he could no more deny that he would recognize any work done by the ubiquitous Justin Taylor, than he could deny his own name.

There, at what would be directly behind the head of the conference room table when the room was set up as such, was an exquisite masterpiece. It was an explosion of golds and blues and muted tans, that although considered neutral colors were anything but ordinary in the brilliance of texture and placement.

The splash of burgundy off to one side could almost be considered an afterthought to anyone who didn't know what they were looking for, but Brian knew only too well that nothing happened by chance in a work done by Justin Taylor. His stomach clenched at the thought that he had been apart from Justin for so long that he had no idea what that splash meant. There was a time when he could look at any painting that Justin had produced and know exactly what was going on in the boy’s mind when he painted it.

He felt unsettled, even more so than he had since arriving in here in the city he used to love. This entire visit had been a clusterfuck of unwelcome emotions and uninvited memories. More than anything, he wanted to get through his current business in NY and get the hell out of there so that he could go back to the life where he had learned to just barely endure the normal level of pain his life now contained. 

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that seemed to really prove true whenever he returned after any extended trip away from the Pitts. Whenever he got back to town, men would be lined up once again for a chance to spend just one night with Brian ‘Fucking’ Kinney.

He was planning a few weeks at home after this trip, and he knew that his pain management techniques were never so successful as they were there. Back in Pittsburgh, where everything was familiar, and he was still the most sought after stud of Liberty Avenue, he could regroup, and then he could rim and suck, play and fuck without missing a beat. Only then, perhaps, would he be able to exorcise the beast currently taking up residence within his soul.

He was thirsty in a way that only happened when he thought of Justin. As long as he stayed here, nothing was going to quench that thirst except for an encounter that could never be.

In the moments before his speaking engagement began, Brian reluctantly allowed himself to remember the time when his own actions had made quite sure that that was so.

/~/

 

Unable to push his thoughts aside after seeing the canvas before him, Brian thought back to the last time he had talked to Justin.

Justin had been insisting more and more often that it was time for him to come home to Pittsburgh. Some days it seemed it was all the blond thought about, and Brian feared that it was keeping him from giving all he had to becoming a big fat fucking success here in New York. Things were really beginning to happen for the young artist, but not as quickly as either of them had originally hoped.

He had to do something. He would have to be the strong one. He just couldn’t let Justin give up his chance for his art career to take off as Brian had absolutely no doubt that it would.

On top of that, even with the overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Brian still thought that Justin would be much better off finding someone his own age, someone who could share the day to day ups and downs of this process and focus all of his attention on making Justin the center of his world.

While Justin was, and always would be, the most important person in Brian’s world, and fuck if he could still figure out how the hell that had happened, he knew that the difference in their age, their station, and their experience would always be the one thing that kept Justin from being able to have the type of relationship that he deserved.

As much as he now loved the twink who would not be stopped, he was never going to be the ‘one man only, flowers and romance, white picket fence and let’s have a family’ partner that deep in his heart he truly believed Justin still wished he were.

So, that morning, he had told Justin that he had errands to run while he was at his studio, and had taken the time to pack up all of his things, every little thing he had ever brought with him to New York. He wondered to himself as he did how the fuck he had accumulated so much stuff, without even realizing that this place had become a second home to him through the years.

As he packed, the tears ran down his face, and he realized with a broken heart that somehow, without him even being aware, home for him had become wherever Justin was. Justin, who loved him with a fierceness and intensity that he never could have prepared himself for, but who deserved so much more than Brian could ever give him.

No one had ever loved him like that before. No one had ever put his needs first, loved him without condition, and made him feel safe and content no matter what crap he threw back, as he dealt with the aftermath of a life that had taught him eventually everything you love brings hurt and pain.

So, he had to do this. He had to make Justin believe that this was what Brian needed. Deep down he knew that if Justin thought that this was what was right for Brian, no matter how much it hurt, the boy would let him go. This would have to be the one time that he could offer Justin the one thing that he really did deserve…the same sacrificial love that the boy turned man had given to him time and time again. He had to love Justin back…enough to let him go.

Not long after, as he walked down the street and saw Justin laughing and talking with the bike boy, he knew that his instincts had been right, and that now was the perfect time for him to set Justin free. As he watched the two of them laughing and talking, he thought to himself that If he could manage to set his mask firmly enough in place and make Justin believe that this is what he needed, it was not too late for the younger man to move on and find someone that he could share his life with as it should be. 

“We need to talk, Justin,” he had abruptly grumbled at Justin as he approached the obviously confused young man.

“It’s time we face some facts, Justin,” he heard himself say. “We’re beating a dead horse here. I’ve been putting my life on hold for days at time for far too long, what with all the trips I have been making up here to see you. Sure, we always have a great time, but it’s really starting to get old.”

He could remember each and every line as if it was only yesterday, the words being no less gut wrenching to contemplate now than they were then.

“On top of that, all this talk about you coming back to the Pitts is making my dick soft. We can’t go back, Justin. I think we both always knew that. It’s better that we admit that now, and get on with our lives. Go out there and be the best fucking homosexual you can be, here in New York, and I’ll do the same back in Pittsburgh. I think I can do that now, you taught me how. I just can’t keep doing this,” waving his hand back and forth between them, “anymore.”

Turning and walking away at that moment had almost killed him. The pain had been tremendous, and blindsided him with its intensity.

Through the years, he had entertained the thought of contacting Justin, or seeking him out at a show, or a trip home, but each time, this one fact would stop him cold. There was no way he could survive that pain again. He knew without a doubt that he was not strong enough to walk away again if he saw him. On top of that, although he wanted Justin to be happy with a passion that surprised even himself, he couldn’t bear to actually witness Justin in love with someone else, if that was the case.

No. Things had happened exactly the way that he meant them to. He had done what he needed to do for the only man he would ever love, and just look at the result. The evidence was there right before his eyes. Justin, his Justin, had become a huge success, and everything was just as it should be.

/~/

Somehow Brian made it through the rest of the afternoon’s festivities, but by the time it was over he was overwrought and exhausted. Since it was still too early in the day to visit his any of his favorite diversionary haunts, he uncharacteristically decided to take a walk through Central Park to clear his head.

He hoped that the brisk air, along with the unique sights and sounds one could expect to find there would be enough to keep him distracted until the doors opened at the clubs, after which he planned to find and fuck as many hot studs as the venues had to offer.

He had no meetings scheduled for the next day until after lunchtime, and so there was absolutely nothing to stop him from getting completely and resoundingly drunk off his ass, imbibing all the recreational drugs he could muster, basically getting so shit faced that he could not remember his own name for the rest of the night, far less that of the man he left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC
> 
> ...what lies ahead for our boys?


	4. Chapter 4    Two Ships...Passing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little more detail…a little more plot…and a tease…
> 
> I’m not really cruel…but it will all be worth it soon, I promise!
> 
> Huge shout out to Chelle and Lorie - you always take what I write, edit and enhance, and make it better in the process!

Justin’s meeting yesterday with Rachel and Tazlyn had gone much better than he had anticipated, and as a result, everything was set for the show scheduled for the upcoming weekend at a small, but up and coming gallery only a few blocks away. He and Rachel had spent more than a few tense afternoons when he had first hired the talented but hard-nosed woman to represent him, bickering over the unusual series of limited showings that the artist insisted were non-negotiable.

Every few months, Justin had proposed, applications would be accepted from galleries throughout the city willing to showcase three or four little known artists that had come to the attention of Tazlyn through her research within the art community in the city. The advantage for the gallery owner would not only be the free publicity they received as a result of their strategically advertised ‘public service’, but also the chance to have a handful of Justin Taylor originals hanging in their showroom while esteemed critics and art connoisseurs passed through their doors.

For Justin, it was a win-win situation. Artists who might otherwise not have the resources or contacts needed to be recognized and offered an exhibit of their works would have a platform to do so, while lesser known galleries with talented and potentially successful staffing and ownership would be provided an opportunity to have their expertise seen among those with the ability to make their name known. In a world in which the mere volume of hopefuls staggered the imagination, it made it so very difficult to find a way to stand out above the crowd. Justin’s hope was that having his name attached to the showing - not to mention actually allowing some of his own works to be shown - would lure those who might otherwise show little to no interest to be attracted enough to attend the showings. The rest was up to the skill and artistry of the individuals who had been invited to participate. It was something Justin had promised himself he would do if and when he made a name for himself, a feat he had more than sufficiently accomplished as he was now a highly acclaimed and much sought after artist of international renown.

Rachel, of course, thought the entire concept was a frivolous waste of time and money, while Justin had insisted that this was his way of paying it forward for those who had paved the way for his own success., At the same time it would allow opportunities for gifted artists who may have otherwise slipped through the cracks. They had eventually been able to compromise, with Justin agreeing to only one new and previously unseen work at each of these showings, enough to garner excitement without risking reduction of the potential asking price of additional pieces due to the premature exposure in such relatively unknown venues. He would also show two or three creations previously shown at one of his solo shows, or commissioned pieces, either pulled from his own collection or borrowed back from their owners solely for the duration of the show, usually one or two nights.

As he walked down 58th Street toward his only appointment for the day, he made an entry into his phone reminding himself to have Tazlyn send a note of thanks to the Omni for allowing him to loan the canvas the chairman of the board had purchased to hang in the executive conference room of the posh hotel. He had only shown this particular canvas once before, and the interior designer who had been tasked with decorating the newly renovated space at the Berkshire Hotel had fallen in love with it at first sight and immediately had his red dot placed on it to indicate the piece had already been purchased.

The man had attempted to talk Justin into allowing him to also buy the exquisite companion piece, but the artist was firm and unwavering regarding the ‘Not for Sale’ placard displayed prominently next to the canvas in question.

Looking at the time, Justin realized that he had time to kill before the meeting Tazlyn had arranged with the prospective commission client that Rachel informed him was most anxious to discuss a series of his works, both canvas and mural, for his new downtown establishment. If the executive and the artist were able to come to an agreement, this would end up being an extremely lucrative contract, and Rachel had been almost drooling with anticipation as she described the details to the young blond.

Since it was another beautiful autumn day, Justin decided to take advantage of the free time and head over to Central Park to snap some photos to use as inspiration for future paintings. It was one of his favorite places in the city, and he smiled to himself as he realized that each time he visited, he never failed to find at least two or three images there that sparked an idea in his mind. Many of the finished products that resulted now hung on walls all around the country, and a few even further away than that.

Today though, as he sat on a bench just inside the park, thoughts of the inspiration for the pieces he had chosen to hang in this week’s show pervaded his mind. It suddenly hit him why he hadn’t been able to get Brian off his mind lately. It was no wonder, when the focus of so much of his time had been these works that held, within each brushstrokes, all the pain and anguish of the most heartbreaking times in his life

He wondered if his former lover would recognize in the first painting the splash of color across the peace and contentment of its otherwise muted tones, placed so that it almost seemed to interrupt the flow of it, changing it in some inexplicable yet undeniable way. The shade of the splash was that particular shade of burgundy that blood took on, once it has dried and lost its vibrancy.

His thoughts then drifted to the other piece, the one he had not been able to let go, even though he nearly came completely undone each time he looked at it. This piece began as a warm and comfortable array of burnt oranges and mustard yellows, pulsating with life yet muted and dimmed as they swept across the canvas under a streak of olive flecked with brown, its tones and highlights what many would call hazel. As the streak reached the far right side of the painting, it seemed to almost fall off the canvas, the sense of loss so real that it could be felt within one’s soul.

The choice of these two paintings had been obvious to him as he gazed at his phone, at the image of the third, and previously unseen, canvas that was the first one he had decided on when planning this show. Even though it was a totally different style and feel, there was no denying that this canvas was a culmination of the circumstances that the other two represented. The two most devastating days of his life…his bashing, and the day Brian walked out of his life. Both of these moments but a split second in time, but both with far reaching, long term and excruciatingly painful consequences that changed who he is at his very core…his art…his abilities...his sense of self…the way he approached life…and his very ability to trust even what lay right before his eyes. 

Some of his best work had come from dark places deep within himself, and this new piece, ‘Empty Arms’, was one of these. He had painted it at a time when he had been feeling particularly lonely, disconnected, and set adrift. With its sequence of almost abstract yet easily distinguishable human images among swirls of faint pastels, half a heart with the other side a mere shadow, eyes searching but with no defined place for their gaze to land, a partial face with one single tear making a path down its cheek, and arms reaching out as if to embrace but with nothing to wrap themselves around, it told a story of sadness and loss that for him required the other two paintings to complete the tale. 

After a few more painful moments lost in his memories, Justin got up from the bench and walked out of the park towards the building where his meeting was to be held. As he lackadaisically snapped a few photos along the way, giving them little thought, he consciously forced his mind to shift away from his show, those fucking paintings; and the man at the center of it all, as he began to think about the client he was about to meet. He had only about fifteen minutes to get his mind back in the game if he wanted to have a real shot at acquiring this commission deal, and that, right here and now was all that mattered.

/~/

Brian entered Central Park, allowing himself to truly enjoy the sights, sounds and smells around him.

There were kids running and playing, which normally would have annoyed the shit out of him, but today he needed all the noise and distraction the famous venue could offer. Various types of music could be heard in all directions, as well as a dog barking and a heated conversation between two young women about some boyfriend drama or another.

He sat down on a bench just inside the park, intent on just paying attention to whatever other sensory input he could notice, not really giving a shit about any of it, but welcoming the diversion he needed so badly. As he turned his head, however, a faint smell of strawberry shampoo in the breeze, a smell he’d recognize anywhere, brought him abruptly back to the one thing he had been trying to get off his mind with this little walk in the park…Justin!

With a sigh, he smirked as he thought of the irony of that particular scent hanging in the air today of all days, one more unwelcome reminder of his former lover, even though there was no way in hell Justin still used that cheap and fruity shampoo now that he could afford to use products that didn’t hail from the local Dollar Tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry… I couldn’t resist!
> 
> TBC


	5. Chapter 5 - Coming…and Going

It was after 11:00 before Brian walked through the lobby the next morning. He had not gotten in until well after four, and it had taken him much longer than usual this morning to get up and pull himself together. He couldn’t even remember returning to the hotel last night, not to mention how exactly he had gotten there. He did, however, know fully well from his massive headache and tender dick that he had accomplished exactly what he had set out to do last night – fuck and forget.

He looked up at the front door as he approached it, and swiftly swung around to avoid eye contact with the doorman from the other night, the one who had been leaving him notes, surreptitiously placed, attempting to arrange a repeat rendezvous. Obviously the encounter had been much less forgettable for the hotel employee than it had for him, Brian thought to himself shamelessly.

As he turned, he looked down at the ornate table now directly before him, and what he saw there among the ‘things to do while you are here” literature placed strategically for tourists to peruse immediately stood out and seized his attention.

Claus Müller Gallery cordially invites you  
to come and experience a once in a lifetime  
opportunity to feast your eyes on the past –  
the present – and the future of the world of art  
in New York City.

 ***picture of Justin***

featuring Justin Taylor

also showing  
Mathias Quinn  
Madeleine Twydell  
Hachi Martinez

Right there on the cover of the brochure for the event was the very face that Brian thought he would never see again…the one he tried to erase from his dreams, but could not…the one that brought memories too raw to bear…the one that he wished could be there in his arms more than anything else in this entire world. It was as if the universe itself had been conspiring throughout this entire trip to make sure that Justin was never far from his mind. Everywhere he went, it was painfully obvious that Justin was not merely a figment of his past, but flesh and blood, here and now, a current presence right here in New York, real… but not his anymore.

He could barely breathe. His senses dimmed until everything around him seemed to disappear. He became dizzy with the impact of it all as he leaned against the table to keep his legs from giving out beneath him.

Justin. His Justin. He was gorgeous. He’d aged well, although he still had the appearance of someone much younger than Brian knew he actually was. He was successful. It was obvious from the wording on the leaflet that there was little need for an introduction, but rather an interested reader would be expected to be familiar with the artist. He was everything Brian had hoped when he left Justin standing outside his studio five years ago, although the smile he had come to know, and to crave, did not seem to be quite as brilliant as he remembered. It didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes, although Brian knew well how demanding cameramen could be during a photo shoot.

He forced his eyes away from the photo in order to take in the rest of the brochure. The show was Thursday and Friday only, and as he read he realized that it was more for the benefit of unknown, up and coming artists than for Justin himself. According to the text, Justin would only be showing two previous pieces and one never before seen canvas. How very like the blond. He had probably planned the whole thing himself, lending his name and reputation to the event so that other artists could be given exposure that he well knew was difficult to come by at best.

Brian looked at his phone. Thursday. Today. Could he go? Could he not? How he yearned to see Justin face to face, but he knew he wasn’t strong enough to let him go again if he did. This, if anything, proved once and for all that Justin needed to be free, despite the fact that what Brian needed was Justin back in his life, now more than ever. 

Grabbing one of the brochures, he strode out through the door so abruptly that he didn’t even notice the huge smile of the doorman, nor was he aware when the man’s face fell in disappointment as Brian completely ignored him on his way out.

/~/

Justin walked leisurely around the showroom floor, intent on finding something nice for his mom’s birthday and then getting out the hell out of there. With his recent thoughts so completely centered around his former lover, everywhere he looked he saw something that would have caught the eye of the brunette who had always loved the finer things in life. The boutique reminded him so much of Brian that he ached - it was almost as though he could actually feel him nearby. He sighed with relief as he looked down and noticed the perfect gift for his mother in the display case directly in front of him at the back of the room. He motioned to the salesman nearest him gratefully. He really had no interest in remaining in this store any longer than he had to.

At the same time, Brian is walking down 5th Avenue, desperately trying to think of a way to see Justin’s show without running into him. He stopped briefly outside a fine jewelry boutique as he grasped his nose between his thumb and pointer finger in an attempt to relieve the pressure once again building up there, trying his best to quell the headache that usually followed. With this back to the display window, he stood there distractedly trying to formulate the idea that had begun as he walked. Had he turned at that very moment, as he continued on his way, that plan would have been a moot point, as he would have seen the object of his obsession standing only a few feet away, completing his purchase. As it was, however, he simply kept walking towards the little storefront he had recently found just around the corner, where he planned to stop and pick up a few gifts for Debbie and Cynthia to take back with him to Pittsburgh.

Pausing outside the exclusive shop, Brian found the phone number to the Claus Miller Gallery and highlighted it on his Galaxy 6. “Call active number”, Brian stated clearly into the phone. A gentleman with a very distinguished baritone voice quickly answered as the call connected, “Claus Miller Gallery, this is Drew Abbott, may I help you?”. 

“You sure can,”: Brian smoothly intoned with a rather aristocratic air. “My name is B. Rian Yennik, art critic with the Brilliant Trends section of Art Daily, online newspaper. I would very much like to have a teeny bit of alone time this evening with Mr. Taylor’s newest masterpiece before he arrives so that I am prepared to discuss it with him during our scheduled interview later. What time are you expecting him?”

“Well, the show begins at six o’clock, however, Mr. Taylor is not anticipated to arrive until seven o’clock, sir. I’m told that it is his normal routine on these up and coming artist exhibits to allow the unknown talent the first hour alone with the public and the media. Once he arrives I have no doubt that he will be the main focus of everyone’s attention for the rest of the evening. Have you seen his work? Isn’t it exquisite?”

Brian thought back to the canvas that he had seen just this week hanging on the hotel board room wall. His mind then shifted to the pieces he still had hanging or stored in his loft back in Pittsburgh, not to mention those at Kinnetik that he had not allowed to be removed, despite the clenching in his gut every time he saw them. “Yes, Mr. Taylor is a rare and beautiful treasure. Um…his talent, that is.”, Brian coughed as he quickly corrected his faux pas. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Abbott. Perhaps I can time it so that I can view the piece on my own, and then speak a little to the artist before I leave in order to best organize my questions and discussion points for our interview later tonight.”

At that very moment, Justin, having finished with his transactions, continued on his way towards his scheduled meeting with Tazlyn before his gallery appearance that evening. They needed to go over last minute details for the show, as well as discuss his upcoming schedule and arrangements to move the pieces from the gallery to their respective destinations once the event was over. He was just crossing the street when the hair at the back of his neck tingled as if a ghost had touched him from behind. 

“You’ve been extremely helpful.” Brian stated pleasantly, turning as he did so to enter the front door of the small shop.

Justin’s head snapped around towards the sound, as he blanched. He could have sworn that It was Brian’s voice, would have sworn it had he been forced to. Yet, as he turned in the direction it had come from, there was no one there he knew. “That’s just great!,” Justin huffed in exasperation. “Now I am hallucinating on top of everything else. Just what I need.” Shaking his head, he continued on towards his appointment.

/~/

The doors to the gallery opened promptly at six o’clock. Having quietly placed himself in position to enter the building swiftly, Brian was already standing, mouth agape with fascination and awe, before Justin’s exhibit by six-oh-five. He didn’t know what exactly he had expected, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was seeing.

The first thing he noticed, of course, was the very same painting he had seen earlier in the week at the Omni. How was this shit even fucking possible? His lips curled in at the irony. Was this really just more of the universe fucking with Brian Kinney? It had to be. Nothing else even remotely made sense right now, not that his theory actually had any kind of logic either, but he was much too nonplussed to realize that at the moment.

He looked at the nameplate, Innocence Subdued, and a cold shiver ran through him. Could it be? Was it even conceivable that his initial reaction to the painting, that feeling of being so strangely troubled, was not merely from the fact that the sight was unexpected, but rather because subconsciously he knew, even as he was sure he did not, exactly what that red streak represented, and what this painting depicted?

He forced his eyes away and towards the second canvas, sure that a different explanation would be evident as he did. Instead, the canvas before him nearly brought him to his knees. He was devastated as he tried to come to grips with the fact that somehow this painting, a picture that so clearly represented him as he walked out of Justin’s life, could be a companion piece to one representing the bashing. As he looked at the nameplate for this second work, he read the title, Promise Extinguished, and then for a moment he could see nothing more as his eyes filled with unshed tears that blurred his vision. Seeing these two picture next to each other, same size, same feel, same emotional composition, it suddenly hit him. There was no doubt in his mind that the inference here was that for the artist who created them, these two events were equally hurtful, and by the same token, equally damaging. The impact of that revelation was startling.  
He steeled himself to turn and look at the third piece. ‘No, it couldn’t be,’ he thought. Even though he had never seen the other two pieces before, they could have been done a long, long time ago, just after he left maybe. But this, this piece Empty Arms was new. The pain and the loneliness, however, were still there, speaking just as loudly off the canvas, and with tears finally beginning to spill over, Brian suddenly couldn’t get the hell out of there fast enough.

He was gonna’ need another night of fuck and forget, that was for damn sure, although he doubted that his body could hold out against the sheer amount of drinking, drugging and dancing…not to mention abundant fucking, that he would need to reach his goal after this evenings proceedings.

/~/

Justin slid in the side entrance of the gallery, doing his best not to draw attention to himself just yet. His meeting with Tazlyn had taken less time than anticipated, and he knew he was earlier than expected. He quickly slipped into the staff lounge, where a small group of gallery staff had gathered.

“Hey, Justin.” Drew called out softly. He knew the man would not want anyone out in the main gallery to know that he had arrived already. “Your art is making quite an impression already; we were just talking about it.” “Yeah, how’s that,” Justin responded curiously, as he approached the coffee maker on the counter to pour himself a cup. “Well, you just missed it,” Drew continued. “Not five minutes ago some guy was standing in front of your paintings, with tears, actual fucking tears in his eyes, then just high tailed it out of here like his ass was on fire. Never saw a reaction quite like that one. Oh, by the way, some Ryan guy from Art Daily called. He was hoping to get a chance to talk with you before your interview tonight. He said he was going to come in to look at your work before you got here so he was familiar with all three pieces before you met, but I didn’t see him.”

Justin turned to face Drew, one eyebrow raised high in confusion. The artist had often been told that his work reached a place within the viewer’s heart, but why the hell would a perfect stranger be touched so deeply like that? Perhaps the man was dealing with a break-up of his own. Yeah, that would explain it, he guessed. Then – his thoughts pondered the other topic of Drew’s conversation. Ryan? Who the fuck was Ryan. He didn’t know anyone by that name, and he was sure that was not the name of the guy from Art Daily who always showed up at these events. On top of that, he had just met with Tazlyn, and was quite sure he didn’t have any interviews scheduled tonight with the web based magazine. He texted Tazlyn who confirmed that there was no Ryan on his schedule, which he conveyed back to Drew.

“Beats me,” the gallery steward replied. “He said he was a critic. I’m sure that’s what he said. I never heard of him either, but he seemed legit.” Justin shrugged his shoulders as he finished his coffee and walked out onto the gallery floor. This day had been one odd episode after another. By the time he was finished here tonight, he was gonna’ have to hit a club and let off a little steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …..come on – I know you thought the boys might meet up in this chapter, but I couldn’t be quite that predictable…could I? I know this is frustrating – but we all know the slower the buildup – the more rewarding the result. I promise – the boys will finally come face to face in the next chapter – and no, believe it or not, it will not happen at a club.


	6. Chapter 6 - It’s Only Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the meeting we've all been waiting for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks Lorie - I can always count on you to correct my goofs and missteps - you are awesome

Justin was starving. As if to confirm that fact, his stomach chose that exact moment to make itself known, with a loud and lengthy grumble that made him giggle in spite of himself. Before he headed out to the club, he had decided to stop at his preferred all night deli to get his favorite sandwich, La Speciale Italiana…a salty stack of prosciutto, cappy ham, sopressata, mozzarella, red pepper , sundried tomatoes, lettuce and tomato, graced with house Sweet Italian dressing, all served up on the most amazing sourdough roll he had ever tasted. This was a meal to die for! After a day like today, no way was he going to drink on an empty stomach; he had no doubt that things would get much weirder if he did that. Still, drinking and dancing, and hopefully a hot ass to pound into in the backroom, maybe two, that was exactly how he intended to end this otherwise very strange day.

He dug out his ringing phone as he placed his order, and moved to the other end of the counter to pick up his meal. Absentmindedly, he threw a luscious looking thick chocolate brownie on the tray as he answered the phone now nestled between his ear and his shoulder, leaving his other hand free to pay the cashier. “Hello,” he chirped, happily anticipating the treat his deprived taste buds were about to partake of. “Oh, hey Maddie. Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you before I left. Seems you had quite a successful night. The crowd around you was three deep,even long after the show had ended. I told you once your work was seen, everyone would love it as much as I do.” Finding a small corner table where he could sit and enjoy his fare, he suddenly hit the disconnect button by accident when he was startled by a loud noise just behind him….

…..

Brian had been walking aimlessly for hours, wanting to forget, yet unable to stop the traitorous thoughts running round and round in his brain like one of those motorcycle daredevils in the circus. Rev the engines and take off, let the motor idle back for a moment or two, only to find it necessary to crank it up again to get enough momentum to make the round next curve. His thoughts jumbled, his nerves frazzled, and his head pounding, he was beyond grateful when he looked at the time and found that he could soon make his way to the one place in this fucking city where sweet oblivion could be found. He’d just grab a turkey wrap on his way. No need to completely obliterate his stomach lining by following through on his plan without benefit of food to absorb at least some of what he planned to pour into it tonight. He stood back slightly from the counter to look at the huge menu board hanging on the wall above the prep station, only to have his breath catch in his throat. He would recognize that voice anywhere, no matter how long it had been since he heard it. He wanted to turn around, but his legs were not following directions at the moment. He wasn’t sure if he was more afraid that he would find it was all a colossal mistake and he hadn’t actually heard his former lover’s voice, or that it was true, and Justin was actually there, so close he could probably reach out and touch him. His stomach was in knots; it actually hurt, and his feet were frozen in place as his tray clattered to the floor…

…  
Annoyed at being frightened by the racket, Justin spun around swiftly, only to have his objection quickly die on his lips. His first internal reaction was, ‘wow, what a view’, immediately followed by, “fuck, is everything I see this week going to remind me of that man?’ The man standing before him looked so much like Brian from the back that he could barely catch his breath. ‘Of course he does’ Justin thought. Everywhere he went it seemed like the whole world was in on a huge practical joke at his expense. Would it never end? 

Seconds later however, the world around him stopped completely, and breathing was no longer even a remote possibility...as the man in question turned around. 

“B-Brian? Is it…is that really you?”, Justin gasped as the words fell from his mouth like a sigh. His entire body began to tremble as he reached behind him for a chair to keep himself from collapsing on the floor. Tears from some combination of emotions he couldn’t possibly name fell down his cheeks before he was even aware they begun to pool in his eyes. At the same time, his face lit up with the most amazingly stunning smile Brian had seen in far too long.

Brian felt the warmth travel throughout his body just seeing that vibrant grin. It still had the same power over him that it always did – and for a moment, no words would come. Then…”Sunshine,” … Brian exhaled. As he pulled the younger man into an impassioned embrace, the current of electricity surged between them until they each jumped back as if burned. Brian stood there, eyes sparkling in wonder and awe as he took in every inch of Justin’s face. For the longest time, the two simply stared at each other. Neither man was completely convinced that the other was real, even though they had been in each other’s arms only moments before. Too afraid to move, lest it all be a dream, they each stood motionless, even their breathing shallow as they tried to come to grips with the reality of what was happening.

The man behind the counter cleared his throat for the second time. Neither Brian nor Justin had heard him the first time, nor had Justin responded to the insistent ringing of his phone as Maddie tried to reconnect with him to make sure he was ok. It wasn’t like him to hang up on someone, and she was concerned. He had looked strange when he left, and she hoped he was not coming down with something. “You want something buddy?” the deli clerk queried.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Brian responded. “Turkey on a whole wheat wrap...” Both men laughed as Justin added, “no mayo,” in a breathless retort. Tongue in cheek, Brian continued to grin as he asked, “Are you free, Justin? I mean, d-do you have time to sit and catch up with an old…..f-friend.?” He hated the shakiness in his voice, but at the moment there was not a damn thing he could do about it.

“S-sure,” the one word all that Justin could manage, as he sat down at the table he had chosen, glad that it was a table for two, and back along the far wall away from all other patrons at the moment. Grabbing his tray after paying his bill, Brian quietly joined him. “I see your metabolism is still as fast as ever,” the brunette teased, looking at the enormous sandwich and calorie rich dessert on Justin’s tray, and they both snickered again. For a few minutes, neither quite knew what to say, and the awkward pause left them feeling mutually off kilter as they once again gazed at each other, almost forgetting their respective meals. “So, what brings you to New York?” Justin began, and suddenly the words came pouring out as they talked for hours, sharing everything they could from the last five years. Brian told the blond all about Kinetic and the changes there. He talked about Gus, and what was going on with every other member of the ‘family’. Justin in turn told Brian about his rise to fame, highlighting some of the more interesting commissions, his first solo show, as well as the most recent one, and show pieces he had completed. He shared the plan for the pieces he was currently working on, and they each shared a bit about their hopes and dreams. As if by silent agreement, they carefully avoided the topic of their past, or the pain they had each endured in order to give the other what they thought they needed. It was as if they were back in the loft, where they had spent long hours in conversation, a fact that would surprise quite a few people back in the Pitts. Few knew that one of the things that first broke down Brian’s walls, and that he loved most about Justin, was the ease with which they could speak to each other about almost anything, and how Justin could more than hold his own in an intelligent discussion about so many subjects that it often left him dazed.

By the time they started to wind down, it was after one in the morning, but Brian still had one question that he had been dying to ask the man before him. “Are you with anyone, Justin? Is there a man in your life?”

Justin was temporarily speechless. How was he to respond to THAT question? ‘Sure, there’s a man in my life. One man, the only one that ever really mattered. I don’t see him often, only like…say…every five years….’ Oh sure, that would go over well. Brian would be up and out of there so fucking fast that Justin wouldn’t know what hit him. So, instead, he replied, “nope, no one special. Never found someone who could put up with me for very long.” Well…at least that was the truth. “I go out when I want - and do what I want WITH who I want – then I go home - and they don’t come with.”

As Brian pondered that answer, Justin asked him, “what about you, Brian? Are you still the great and powerful stud of Liberty Avenue, fucking every hunk that breathes, or has someone come along who could finally tame the wild beast, someone who could make you want to share your life with him?”

Brian just said nothing as he rolled his lips in and smiled. ‘No, Sunshine,’ he thought to himself. ‘Never could find anyone who could compare to…the one I pushed away.’ He reached up and ran his finger lightly over Justin’s lips, and could feel the man tremble under his touch, his dick twitching in response. As their eyes locked, the heat between them threatening to combust, Brian leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Grasping the younger man’s face in his hands, he slowly let his forehead rest against Justin’s, as his thumb stroked circles on his cheek. “Please, Sunshine. I…uh…I…fuck…come back to the hotel with me, Justin. Please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter, I know, but I just couldn’t let you linger where I left you…besides, I need to get to writing what…or who… we all know will be coming next.


	7. Flame Rekindled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry that it took so long for me to get this chapter written. I don’t know when I have ever struggled over a scene like this. On top of that, with so little time to write to begin with, the holidays only make it more so – and I don’t ever want the people in my life to be able to say ‘if only she had made time for us.’ So…here goes…hopefully a treat for your patience…
> 
> …but don’t put that tissue box too far away quite yet…

Justin could barely believe how easily he had given in, but there was really no point in fighting it. From the first touch he wanted Brian so badly it hurt, and there was no doubt with the hungry looks and soft caresses he’d received that Brian wanted him, too. There was no reason to deny themselves. Hadn’t he just told Brian he did what he wanted, with who he wanted, when he wanted? What he wanted right now was Brian buried so deeply within him that he would still be feeling it through next week. He smiled to himself at the memories that thought evoked as he entered the room. Brian certainly still enjoyed the finer things in life. The room was magnificent and the view breathtaking.

Brian walked hastily over to the other side of the room and simply watched Justin standing there. As much as he hated to admit it, he was just barely holding on to any semblance of control here, and he desperately needed to put a little space between himself and the vision before him so that he could attempt to compose himself. Averting the gaze directed at him, he wondered to himself when the hell had he become so damn unhinged? Looking up once again, their eyes locked, and the answer had never been more clear.

This man, this incredible, amazing, strong, sexy and absolutely gorgeous man had ripped apart every defense, every wall he had carefully built up around himself through the years, and made him want things he never realized he was missing. And then he had thrown it all away. Could he have a second chance? Was that even possible? Did he have the right to ask?

Justin could feel the heat of Brian’s stare even from across the suite, and began to fidget under its intensity. Even though Brian had come to clearly, if not always intentionally, express what he was feeling by the time they had parted all those years ago, there was something there now in the brunette’s eyes that Justin was quite sure he had never seen there before. It was a cross between passion and fear, awe and disbelief, hesitation and need, and it was probably the sexiest thing Justin had ever seen, bar none. The man before him was gutted open and laid bare, more vulnerable than he could ever imagine Brian allowing himself to be. Everything that Brian wanted or needed to say at the moment was right there on his face for Justin to see, and it took every bit of willpower Justin had not to voice what he was seeing.

Somehow the blond found himself standing before the older man without any conscious awareness of having walked across the room. Brian reached out as if to touch his cheek with the back of his hand, but pulled back sharply at the last minute, as if afraid that if he made contact Justin would simply fade away and disappear as he had so often in his dreams. Justin reached out for his hand, and a hiss filled the air as both men gasped in reaction to the surge of electricity that burst between them. He brought Brian’s hand up to his lips, lightly kissing the inside of his palm, once, twice, three times, then running his tongue up and over each fingertip.

“Justin,” Brian whispered, voice cracking as struggled to breath past the huge lump that had formed in his throat. He was barely holding it together. “I…..” He stopped, unable to continue, so overwhelmed that he feared if he tried to say anything more to this beautiful man standing before him, touching him, kissing him, that all the emotion he was feeling would simply pour out, as the tears he was already holding back threatened to overflow.

Silently he begged Justin with his eyes to help him. Overcome with desire, Justin instinctively placed his finger over Brian’s lips, which quieted Brian’s words but did nothing to quell the pounding in his chest at this new touch. Justin ran his fingers up and through Brian’s hair, resting at the back of his head and pulling him forward until their lips met. Initially the touch was so light as to be barely there, and then suddenly, like a torrent, it coursed through them with a power and ferocity all its own, leaving both men breathless and shaking from its impact.

As if time had been standing still, they found themselves standing next to the bed. “I need…”. Brian started, placing his forehead gently against Justin’s once again, as his hands began to slowly and sensually remove Justin’s clothes. “I know,” Justin responded, caressing and stroking Brian’s skin, letting his hands say all the things his brain could not form into meaningful words, as he unhurriedly did the same. Brian shivered at the sensations, his senses heightened, each touch from Justin sending sparks to every part of his body. In no time at all both men were naked, hard, and trembling, although definitely not with cold.

Aflame with desire, Brian slowly laid Justin back across the bed, and positioned himself next to him, making sure that they were skin to skin from their heads down to their feet. Once again he brought their lips together, a kiss that seemed to last an eternity, and yet not nearly long enough. Neither man knew how long they lay there, just kissing, nibbling on soft and familiar lips, tongues twirling against each other as freely as skater’s across the ice at Rockefeller Plaza.

When he had agreed to come back here with Brian, Justin had anticipated that their coupling would be frenzied and urgent, a hard, fast pounding born out of the sheer desperation and overwhelming need they would both be feeling after all this time. No matter what happened, no matter where their unconventional, non-relationship stood at any given moment in time, sex between them was always explosive, a force that could not be denied. 

This, though, was not like anything he had expected. This was gentle, and tender, and everything this moment should be. Every stroke was careful and focused, with a depth of hunger that defied description. Each touch from Brian was so light, it was as though he thought Justin might shatter…or disappear. 

Justin, in turn, silently found each of Brian’s hot spots, and one at a time found enticing ways to use his body to stimulate the sensitive nerve endings, fingers, hair, back of his hand, his tongue, always returning to Brian’s lips where he nibbled and sucked first the top, then the bottom until Brian was uninhibitedly keening and moaning. Brian had never been very vocal in bed, and Justin almost came just from the sound of it.

He reached into the drawer of the bedside table, somehow knowing he would find all he needed there. As he placed a few condoms next to them on the bed, Justin place one in his mouth, tore it open, and slowly slipped it over Brian’s hard as nails and extremely sensitive dick. The older man hissed and arched his back, grabbing the base of his own cock and squeezing hard to stop himself from coming.

Brian took the lube from his lover as his caresses now became focused on the most gorgeous rosebud he had ever had in his long and very extensive history of perusing this particular part of the male anatomy that he loved so well. Still kissing, he rolled Justin onto his back and straddled his legs as he softly and smoothly massaged the area surrounding Justin’s hole with delicate strokes that he knew would be both tantalizing and torturous. As he heard the moans of Justin’s response, he was pleased to see that his plan was working. He moved his lips down from Justin’s mouth to the pulse point at the junction of Justin’s head and neck, sucking lightly before moving on, licking across his upper chest and then still further down, taking in first one nipple and then the other, lightly teasing them to hardness with his talented tongue.

Justin whimpered at the loss of Brian’s lips on his, reaching out in an attempt to pull the man back to rejoin their lips and satisfy his need for the kissing to go on, even as he arched toward the man for more of the treatment he was receiving from Brian’s mouth on other parts of his body. Brian’s tongue traveled across his stomach, stopping for a quick dip into the naval he knew was a hot spot for the blond, and then continued through the treasure trail of fine hair until he was close enough for his tongue to just reach the tip of Justin’s perfect cock.

Making a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob, Justin began to pant as Brian gave more attention to the ridge just below the perfect pink mushroom head of his cock. As he took the entire tip into his mouth and began to lightly suckle and worry at it, he tenderly pushed just a fingertip inside Justin’s hole and past the first tight ring of muscle, as he strove to reach the prize he knew was waiting there within its folds.

Justin bucked up and almost howled, as Brian placed both hands on Justin’s hips and pushed him back against the bed to continue with his oral ministrations. With trembling hands, the brunette added another finger, and bit by bit worked the digits in and out at an agonizing pace. 

“Ahhh, fuck, so good, so fucking good. Just…go slow, Brian. I don’t bottom very often anymore. It’s been an awfully long time since I did.”

Brian’s raised eyebrow brought a knowing smile to the petite man’s face as he immediately surmised the question he was wordlessly being asked. “It’s ok. Don’t stop. Please Brian. Agh…please, I need more, I need…” Adding more lube, the older man carefully began to scissor his fingers, adding a third when he felt Justin begin to relax a little more around him. As he brought his thumb up to lightly rub circles on the sensitive patch of skin just before the blond’s tight pucker, he tapped the bundle of nerves he easily found inside, and Justin screamed his name, consumed with need. “G-ah-Brian, please, NOW, I can’t, I need you now!”

It took Brian only a second to line himself up and push himself inside, but then had to stop straightaway, not only to quell his own release which was already threatening once again to spill long before he was ready, but most of all to give Justin a moment to adjust to his cock inside of him. “God, Justin, you’re so tight, feels so fucking amazing. I-I’m not gonna’ be able to last long.” Brian exhaled noisily as he pushed the rest of the way into the snug, hot channel of Justin’s ass. He didn’t want to stop, he didn’t EVER want to stop, but he certainly was not going to let this moment be cut short now…this was real…Justin was here in his bed, and he had never wanted anything more in his entire life.

“Th-then, come on then. Now…more…Br-Brian.” Justin almost sobbed, voice shaking. With that Brian began to thrust in a forgotten rhythm all their own; tantalizingly deep, long, slow strokes. Overcome with need, Justin desperately tried to lunge back harder…deeper…but Brian held his hips firmly in order to keep up the steady pace. As he adjusted his position, and Justin’s, on the bed, however, the new angle prompted the beginning of the end for both men. As Brian hit consistently across Justin’s prostate, he hissed “Ah, fuck,”; the ass beneath him clenching forcefully, with Justin chanting his name over and over, crying out repeatedly without even knowing he was doing so.

What followed was positively the most spectacular orgasm either man had ever experienced, pulsing powerfully through them as the white lights behind their eyes ignited, crashing wave after wave of smoldering pleasure that left them both breathless and barely conscious.  
As they lay there gasping for air, having to remind themselves to breath in and breath out in their ecstasy, Brian lips pulled into a grin as he brazenly exclaimed. “For someone who doesn’t bottom, Sunshine, that was pretty fucking fantastic.”

Grinning ear to ear, Justin responded, “ I said I don’t bottom often, you ass. I’m queer…and you of all people know that even the most reluctant fag craves…well you know, but yeah, for the most part I like to be the one in the driver’s seat…“ He didn’t add what else was running through his head…’because no one else will ever be able to make me feel like you do’.

“The driver’s seat, huh?” Brian chuckled. “Sure can tell, there is no way that anyone has been granted access there in quite some time. Jesus, you were tight.” Brian found himself hard once again, or maybe still, not completely sated despite the amazing fuck they had just had. Somehow it wasn’t enough, it would never be enough.

The second time they came together that night it was everything Justin had expected the first time – sharp staccato thrusts and animalistic moans and groans, biting and pinching and pounding. Justin began to giggle, as Brian bristled, “only you could find something to laugh about in the middle of sex. What’s so fucking funny?” Justin told him playfully that this was what he had expected the first time, how he had known it would be, and then Brian laughed, too, a really big belly laugh as his face lit up with the joy of it. All too soon, though, they each began to recognize the familiar tell-tale signs in the other that signaled their impending release, and within moments, they both roared out their completion.

Rolling over, Justin quickly discovered that some cleaning up was in order. Without speaking, they strangely fell into their habitual routine, even with all the years of separation. Brian adjusted the temperature of the water in the shower, and set the shower head at just the right angle, while Justin found a change of bedding in the armoire, effortlessly remaking the bed and then joining his lover in the bathroom. He chuckled to himself as he walked across the room, the shower area was exquisite, and he wondered if that had anything to do with Brian choosing this room.

Brian began to soap up the luscious body before him, reveling in the feel of each piece of skin, fingertips tingling with overwhelming familiarity contrasted with the déjà vu of a long missed touch. He let his hands roam nostalgically over every inch, aroused once again as Justin’s moans took on a different cadence when he reached certain more sensitive parts. Turning the younger man to rinse him off, he reached for the shampoo bottle and began to tenderly work up a lather on Justin’s scalp, amid new sounds from the blond.

Coming out of his trance for just a moment, he was suddenly struck by the scent assaulting his nostrils. Strawberry! Looking more closely at the bottle, he began to snicker, as he spoke…” It was you.”

He snickered even more at the confused look on the other man’s face. “The other day, I was at the park, and I could smell…this…in the air. It reminded me so much of you, but I was sure with all your newfound success, you had developed better taste in hair products than this. Ha ha ha. I can’t believe you still use this shit. Was it you, Justin? Were you there at the park?” As Justin nodded his head to indicate that, yes, he was at the park, Brian marveled once again that the fates seemed to have been working all through the week to bring them together like this, mind…and now body.

Hardly believing he could even think such an overly sentimental and sappy thought, Brian was even more shocked when he blurted out, “Do you think it could be, Justin, that the universe itself has been maneuvering around us to make this possible, to bring you back into my arms?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s just that…” Justin got quiet. “Never mind…” Justin abruptly grasped Brian’s hand in his, while the other hand reached up to gently cup the face of this beautiful man before him. 

Brian unconsciously leaned in without a thought, simply responding to the depth of emotion washing over him. They could barely stand to keep any part of their bodies from touching, Brian laying his forehead on Justin, running his fingers through his hair, Justin caressing a thigh, running his fingers over his cheek and jaw. Once again they came together in passion, their simultaneous climax so powerful that it all but brought them each to their knees.

After drying each other off, they fell into bed, bodies intertwined, and quickly fell asleep. It wasn’t long, however, before Brian’s hands began to roam over the body beside him. He just couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t remember a time ever in his life where he was this insatiable, and that was certainly saying a lot.

Justin, as if able to feel and hear all that Brian was thinking, became fully awake, which in and of itself was a rare thing indeed - the blond liked his sleep, and was never easy to rouse. Sliding down under the coverlet, he began to nibble and lick, then suddenly sucked Brian’s length into his mouth, all the way until he was humming and swallowing around the tip, driving the older man crazy with pleasure as he bucked up with nearly his whole body off the bed. 

“Justin, ahhhhhh, don’t stop, please don’t stop. No one…nothing…its never been like this, no one has ever made me feel the way that you do. Uunngghh. God….fuck….. JUSTIN” and Brian came, screaming his name in a very un-Brian Kinney way.

Hours later, after once again falling asleep in exhaustion, Justin stirred, and rolled out of bed to go take a piss. Walking back over to the bed, he gazed down at this man that he would never stop loving, not as long as there was breath left in him. With tears blurring his vision, he watched the other man sleep, seeing the deep contentment there, and wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do now. Could he do it again? Did he have the strength?

Moving silently across the suite, knowing what he has to do and not at all sure he can do it, Justin musters up everything within him, steels himself for the pain he knows is coming, and quietly walks out the door.

In the morning, Brian wakes up, and instinctively knows that he is alone. He calls out anyway, and then feels foolish, as he gets up and shakes his head to clear it. Was it a dream? It seemed so real, but was it…no, his body reveals the tell-tale remnants - evidence that he did not imagine at the very least the un-fucking-believable blowjob he had received at some time during the night.

Walking into the bathroom to relieve the pressure on his bladder, he stopped short, recognizing immediately the handwriting on the note leaning up against his toothbrush. With shaking hands, he picked up the note and opened it, trying to read it through the sheen of tears that suddenly obstructed his view…

Brian,  
I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I always will. Thanks for the new memories. I will treasure them as I do every memory of you – of us. Nothing will ever come close!  
Justin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBC
> 
> no happily ever after quite yet...but don't despair...I always leave the boys together at the end!


	8. Chapter 8  To Have Loved and Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately - more angst for Brian. This story has become so much more intense than my original outline - taking off in a direction all its own. I have no doubt, though, that they will come out better and stronger than ever...and the pain is part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks as always to the ladies of the LLLC. Your constant support and encouragement means the world to me! And of course, to Tagsit, who once again has taken time out of her own busy schedule to catch all my fumbles, and make me seem better than I am.
> 
> To those who have left reviews, comments and kudos - Thank you! It inspires me to keep going.

Brian collapsed onto the bed in his suite, completely drained and feeling more than a little unhinged. He had been completely crushed after reading Justin’s letter. Unfamiliar emotions ran rampant through him, one after another, leaving him totally out of control and uncharacteristically scrambling for balance. Unbearable pain, followed by indignant anger, gave way to piercing grief and then violent rage, all finally resulting in sheer overwhelming panic. As a result, he had sobbed, he had thrown things, he had finished off a bottle and a half of JB and then punched his fist through the wall. By the end of all of that, when he realized with dread that he had never been so frightened in his whole life, he began to lash out, screaming in vain at the young man who was no longer there to hear his lament.

“Who the fuck do you think you are…how could you do this…what the fuck are you thinking…thanks for the memories…are you fucking kidding me…I can’t believe this…I fucking hate you…I don’t need you…you’re nothing but a great fuck…I can’t go through this again…where the fuck are you Sunshine …” Brian raged through the hotel room, finally wearing himself out in despair.

Having slept very little the night before, even though the few hours he did get were the best he had gotten in years, he quickly fell into a deep slumber that was more escape than a search for rest.

He slept almost 9 hours, and awoke to the incessant ringing of his cell phone as it also vibrated across the end table. “What…” he barely got out, when he heard Cynthia’s irate voice speak right over his.

“Where the fuck are you, Brian? You missed two meetings today. Samuel Cline is furious and threatening to sue you for breach of contract, and the phone is ringing off the hook with clients who want their money back from today. What the hell is going on there? The staff is going crazy and I don’t have a fucking clue what to tell them to do. I haven’t been able to get a thing done today except put out the fires behind whatever shenanigans you’ve been up to. Why haven’t you been answering your phone. This is not my job!”

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, thumb and finger pressing on the sides of his nose to quell the tension settling there, Brian did his best to shut her up. “Cynthia…Cynthia, CYNTHIA, WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A SECOND.” Startled, she did exactly that as he continued. “I need your help, and I know it’s not your fucking job, but it can’t be anyone else but you. Do this as my friend, not my CEO. Please, Cynthia.”

“Ok, Brian, what’s wrong. What happened, You’re freaking me out a little here. Are you ok?” Cynthia knew she was rambling, but Brian Kinney had just asked for help, called her his friend, and said please. This was SO not good. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need…hmm…hmm…I need you to find Justin.” Cynthia thought she must have heard him wrong. “Brian, did you say…are you sure ?”  
“I’m sure. I’ve never been more sure of anything. I need to talk to him. Locate his studio. Find out where he lives. Get me his number. I have to reach him. I just have no fucking idea where he is, and there is no time to waste” He sounded determined, yet strangely unsure at the same time.  
“Oh, my God. You fucked him! Why isn’t he with you. What the hell is going on, Brian?”

“Listen, I’ll give you all the sordid details later. Right now, please just do what I ask, as quickly as you can. And have my secretary cancel the rest of my appointments for the week. This is more important. I’ll talk to you later.” Brian abruptly hung up the phone, leaving a smiling but confused Cynthia staring at her phone, shaking her head in wonder.

/bj/

Justin sat in the overstuffed chair that was his favorite seat in the living room of his townhouse in Chelsea. He usually loved being at home. It was cozy, but with a certain Taylor flair, and truly reflected Justin, the artist, and the man. He had fallen in love with the architecture of the building, the LBGT flair of the neighborhood was both familiar and comforting, and the proximity to so many galleries and other art friendly businesses was not only convenient but also efficient. In every room he was surrounded by style and furnishings that told his own unique story, and the at home studio space he was able to create on the top floor was the pièce de résistance. The fact that he had been able to convert the rooms into the most amazing workspace he had ever seen, with perfect lighting and an amazing view, was the final determining factor when he made the decision to buy. Purchase and renovation of the building to suit his needs and preferences was one of the few concessions to his accumulated wealth that he had made during his rise to stardom within the art world.

Today, though, he couldn’t find contentment anywhere, inside his home, or outside. He had even tried to take advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to spend some time on his beloved rooftop veranda, a space he had secretly designed, based loosely around the memories of Debbie’s backyard, where he had spent so much time all those years ago. Few knew about this space. It was the one place he went when he needed to think things through, when there was something on his mind, and when he needed to clear his head. Now though, it only reminded him of Brian.

Giving up, he poured himself a glass of wine, turned the stereo on to some soothing classical music, settled into his armchair, and allowed himself to ponder of all the thoughts he had been trying unsuccessfully to banish from his mind.

Brian.

He tried to tell himself that he wished they hadn’t run into each other, but who was he trying to fool? He had never had a more amazing night in his entire life, and who in their right mind could wish such perfection away?

When that didn’t work, he made a desperate attempt to make himself believe that their rendezvous meant nothing, it was just sex - incredible sex - but just sex. Nothing had changed and life would go on as it had before. Sex had never been the issue; they had always gotten that part right. In bed, they complimented each other in every way, and if this time seemed to hold something new, something different, well then, it had only been his imagination running amok being with Brian again after all these years.

Justin sighed loudly. That argument wasn’t going to work either. There was no way to deny how exposed and yet ravenous Brian had been. Totally unconstrained, and with his filters somehow stripped bare, the man was the very picture of need. In fact, it was so obvious that Justin had almost called attention to it. What the fuck was that? WHO the fuck was that? As far as he could remember, Brian Kinney had never allowed himself to need anyone or anything, and he had never been visibly scared of anything in his adult life. Even losing everything he had, and battling cancer, he had never let anyone see that he was afraid. He always said fear made you look weak, and weakness made his dick soft. Yet Justin was quite sure he saw fear in Brian’s eyes last night.

He knew it would have still hurt like hell, but if Brian had been…well…Brian, he could have walked away from last night the same way he had watched Brian walk away all those years ago, brokenhearted, but strong in his resolve to give the man he loves what he needed. He could have found a way to compartmentalize this episode in his life, paint it, process it, and then somehow move on, knowing Brian was living the life he wanted - just the way it had to be. He had always wanted nothing more than for Brian to be happy and content, or as close to that as Brian Kinney ever would allow himself to be.

But this? No, this definitely was not in the Kinney operating manual, even with the addendum that had been added during the time following their engagement. Sure, Brian had been more open and honest then than ever before, and for the first time had been willing to share his feelings and acknowledge what they meant to each other. This, though, had not been just lust, a fondness born out of familiarity and shared memories, nor even simply a desperate need to revisit their past. This was passionate, it was edacious, with an intimate urgency that Justin had never experienced before, and he had no idea what the fuck to do with that.

All these years he had truly believed that Brian had walked away and never looked back. That he had decided Justin wanted more than he was willing to give. He had kicked himself time and again for pushing so hard to go home, accepting as true what Brian had made clear that day, that it simply wasn’t what he wanted anymore, and that even phenomenal sex with Justin was no longer worth the time and effort it took to make it happen. Brian needed his life back the way it had been before Justin thrust himself into it, and Justin loved him enough to give Brian what he needed and let him go.

The more he thought about it, the less he could determine what was real. Was it even conceivably possible that Brian still had genuine feelings for him, that he had not moved on as Justin always assumed, and that somehow over the course of their years apart, those feelings had grown rather than diminished? The look in his eyes…the tremor in his voice… the way his hands shook when they touched, it had reached something deep inside Justin’s heart, and made him yearn to wrap his arms around Brian, holding him in his arms and assuring him that everything would be ok.

Justin snickered to himself, wondering how Brian would have reacted had he let himself act on that particular impulse. Brian allowing himself to be coddled was laughable. Still, over the years they were together, he HAD let Justin see a side of him that no one else even knew existed, and the man hadn’t seemed to be holding ANYTHING back last night. He had never been so transparent before. Could he truly have reached a stage in his life where he could not only acknowledge his need to let Justin care for him, but actually ask for it…in silent Brian Kinney speak, of course?

Justin shook his head. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t let it matter. Even if it were true, and he had no idea what was really true anymore, Justin knew that he could never put himself in that position again. He couldn’t afford to put his heart and soul once again into a relationship that had ALWAYS, outside of the bedroom at least, been unbalanced.

What more proof did he need that he couldn’t risk a future with the man he still loved, even after all these years. Brian, who needed to be the one in control, who needed to call all the shots. Brian, who it now seemed had lied to him about the very reason for breaking up with him. Brian, who had apparently thrown him off another fucking cliff, who, if this was all true, had made the biggest, most important decision of their lives, one which would affect both of them for years to come, and never even fucking consulted him or asked for his viewpoint. No, as much as it hurt, with a new fresh pain to add to the dull aching one that had been there for longer than he wanted to think about, this time he had been the one who needed to walk away. He knew his heart couldn’t take it if he let it hope again, only to have it ripped wide open…the next time…

With tears now rolling down his cheeks, suddenly sadness turned into regret. Why now? He had worked so hard for that place of resignation he had carved out for himself, and now once again the door to that fortress was blown open and beckoning.

He pondered anew if he wished they had never reconnected, and that thought transformed the storm inside him to an angry squall. How dare he? Sure Brian was the master at misrepresenting himself, but to find out on top of everything else that the man had looked into his face and blaringly lied to him. After all this time, what the fuck did he do with that? 

Good intentions or not, Justin now knew that if Brian loved him as much as it had seemed last night, then he could only expect more of the same. More control. More pain. More of Brian deciding, all by his fucking self…thank you very much…what Justin needed and when he needed it and how best to get it…according to the great and powerful Kinney. 

Justin knew that he had made the right decision leaving that hotel room. Somehow he would survive losing Brian all over again. For right now though, he would just let it out, as he huddled down into his chair and let the sobs flow through him.

/bj/

Brian hung up the phone after writing down all the information that Cynthia was able to retrieve for him. He would have to send her a little something extra. He hated taking advantage of her loyalty to him by asking her to take off her CEO hat for a few hours and handle the scut work necessary to locate Justin for him, but this was simply too important to allow anyone else to handle.

She was the only one he had trusted enough to totally confide in when he and Justin had parted ways. She knew more about him than anyone else in the world, and while she never held back from sharing her strong opinions, he knew that she was also the only one who would neither judge him nor condemn him. She had been with him throughout his entire career, and through the years had become more of a sister to him than Claire could ever hope to be.

Looking at his watch, he realized with frustration that it was nearly eleven o’clock at night. Even though Cynthia had done an amazing job of gathering a wealth of information in a relatively short span of time, his reactionary activities of the morning, coupled with the need to sleep off the after effects, unfortunately gave her a rather late start for her assignment.

He hoped Justin was still up, but either way, he had to call the man tonight. It simply could not wait. He needed to talk to him, needed to hear his voice, needed to assure his lover that last night was not just a memory, that he wanted more. He needed more. He knew they had so much to discuss before they could move forward into the future he envisioned, but not tonight. Tonight he only wanted to see him, and truly wished that when the younger man did eventually retire for the night, it would be in his arms.

He dialed the number that Cynthia had provided, and anxiously waited for Justin to pick up.

/bj/

Justin woke up to the ringing of his cell phone. Momentarily uncertain of where he was, he soon realized that he had fallen asleep in his chair. Looking down, he didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, and almost didn’t answer it. He certainly wasn’t in the mood to get involved with any business queries or negotiations Rachel or Tazlyn might have sent his way, and anyone else who would be calling him would have been in his address book.

His breath caught in his throat when he heard the voice on the other end of the line. “Brian!” he breathed, “what…how…who gave you…how did you get my number?” He stumbled over his words as he struggled to come fully awake, as well as come to terms with the fact that Brian had somehow gotten his private contact information. In order to protect his privacy and his time, this line wasn’t even listed in his own name.

“I’m sorry to be calling you so late, Sunshine.” Brian began, the nickname slipping from his lips effortlessly. “I don’t know why you left, what you thought last night was, but I need you to know that for me that was only the beginning. Now that I found you again, there is no way in hell that I can let you go again. Don’t you see, Justin. Last night meant everything to me. To have you in my arms again, to be given a second chance to love you, and be loved by you. It’s all I want. We can make this work, Justin. You’ll see. Whatever it takes.”

“Brian…Brian…listen to me. Yes, last night was wonderful, I can’t deny that. What would be the point? Still, it doesn’t change anything, really, does it? You’re still you…I’m still me. To be sure, neither of us is exactly the same man as we were five years ago, but who we are at our core, Brian, that hasn’t changed.”

“Are you saying that you don’t want me? That what I read in your eyes last night wasn’t real? Can you tell me that you don’t love me? Please, Justin, tell me you felt it, too.” Brian was as close to begging as his fragile psyche could allow.

“Of course I felt it. I knew I would when I first agreed to go back to your hotel with you. We’ve never had a problem communicating in bed, Brian. It’s the one place everything is always real for us. And I saw all that you were saying last night. To tell you the truth, it scared the hell out of me. We are not in bed twenty-four hours a day, though, now are we? Even WE have to face the real world now and then. No. Now more than ever, I can’t let myself want more. I don’t think I’d survive it.”

“What the actual fuck, Justin.” Brian screamed into the phone. “I want to give you everything. I’m ready to give you all I never could before, and you’re just going to throw it all away? It doesn’t make any sense. We love each other. How can anything else matter?”

Justin sighed, his voice quivering as he struggled to hang on to his last ounce of composure. “Brian, I can’t do this. Can’t you understand? I just can’t do it. We had last night, and try as I might I can’t regret it. I haven’t felt that kind of passion since you walked away from me all those years ago. It was everything I remember, and so much more, and I have no doubt it will fill my dreams for years to come. That’s all it can be, though, a beautiful memory to treasure. I can’t afford to open myself up and let you back in. Let it go, Brian. Let us go. And somehow I’ll find a way to do the same. Please don’t call me again. It will just make it that much harder to go on.”

Brian barely resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room as he realized the connection had been severed. As he plopped down onto the edge of the bed, he was startled as his phone rang in his hand. “Justin, I knew you couldn’t really give up on us like that.” Brian blurted out, not even looking at his phone to see who it was.

“Uh, Brian. What did you do? Please tell me you didn’t hook up with that self-centered punk and open up old wounds that have long since healed over. Why would you do that?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Mikey. Thank you so much for your fascinating insights. Sometimes I wonder if you really even know me at all anymore.” He pinched his nose between his fingers as he heard the whining continue.

“I’m your best friend, and you know it.” Mikey’s sing song voice was almost more than he could bear. “No one knows you better than me. Especially not that blonde you finally came to your senses and got rid of. You’ve been more than fine without him all this time, once you realized he could never give you what you need. You need your freedom to be the Great Brian Kinney – no excuses…no regrets.”

“Fuck you, Mikey. When the fuck are you going to stop living in the past, and see who I am, not who you want me to be? I haven’t been FINE in so long, I can barely remember it. If you were really my best friend, you would see that, but you only see what you want to see. I can’t talk to you right now, Mikey. I gotta’ go.”

Brian threw the phone across the bed, and then threw himself back onto it as well. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? He was cut open, unprotected, every single wall he had ever built around his heart was now blown apart, and he had never felt so alone.

“Fuck this,” he said to no one…to everyone who could now hurt him with no defenses left to shield him. “I don’t need him; I don’t need any of you.”

He showered, shaved, and dressed in record time. The only thing he had left to anchor him was his tried and true pain management regime. He was going out, getting as shit-faced as he possibly could…and whatever else came with that…well bring it on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbc...what will tomorrow hold?


End file.
